Beatrice Mills
by sinemoras09
Summary: Silas gets a companion. AU. Fix-it fic based on the short story, A Kind of Murder by Hugh Pentecost (1962).


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From the beginning, he had always been the odd man out.

The Academy, at least as long as Nurse Beatrice had known it, was a bastion of muscular patriotism: the faculty members there were vigorous and robust, a coterie of loud, proud men with hair on their chests, the kind of simmering masculinity that helped mold the impressionable youths that schlepped through the towering iron gates. When Mr. Etsweiler died, finding a replacement proved an arduous task, so when the headmaster brought in Silas Warren, all eyes turned to the gangly man in the threadbare sweater. It was an unspoken acknowledgement that he was the only one they could find.

Nurse Beatrice made her acquaintance with him some hours later, when he was hovering outside her office, unsure of where he was.

"This is the chapel," Beatrice said. They walked down the halls, the sound of her heels clicking down the corridor. "This is the principal's office and this is the common mess hall."

"Thank you," Mr. Warren said. They rounded a corner as she led him to his classroom.

xXx

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The island on which the Academy sat was isolated from the rest of the town, the local ferry only coming to shore every third day, as the faculty lived on Academy grounds and the traffic to the island was otherwise non-existent.

He was sitting alone in the faculty lounge; the other teachers were lunching together, laughing and carousing, while Mr. Warren sat hunched over his sandwich, eyes staring vacantly into the little tabletop on which his lunch was sitting. Nurse Beatrice paused, then smiled, moving into his line of sight.

"Mr. Warren," she said, and he lifted his eyes. "May I join you?"

"Oh, of course!" he said, and he scooted dutifully down the bench. She sat beside him and glanced down at his tray.

A sad sort of turkey sandwich, haphazardly thrown together; wilted lettuce, stale bread, and an apple that was beginning to wrinkle at the skin. Nurse Beatrice tutted loudly and shook her head. "That is obviously a bachelor's lunch," Nurse Beatrice said. Mr. Warren smiled.

"Oh? Is it that obvious?"

"It is more than obvious," Nurse Beatrice said.

The next day she offered him a sandwich. "I made it for you: pastrami on rye. You are much too thin. You need to put some meat on your bones."

"You shouldn't have," Mr. Warren said, and he gratefully took the sandwich. Nurse Beatrice shook her head.

"Really, someone needs to make you a proper lunch. And look at your clothes! You at the very least ought to sew it properly."

"Money is scarce, unfortunately," Mr. Warren said.

xXx

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The months passed. From the little window of her office, she saw how the other faculty members swept through the courtyard, as loud and carefree as the students under their tutelage. Apart from them, she'd see Mr. Warren walking slowly, hanging back from all the others. She felt sorry for him and she worried about him, but eventually, she grew to look forward to his company.

"I daresay you are the only man with whom I can have a proper conversation," Nurse Beatrice said, and Mr. Warren laughed quietly.

xXx

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"He punched you?"

Nurse Beatrice stood, indignant, as Mr. Warren carefully sat on the folding chair opposite her. "Why on earth would he do such a thing?"

"To demonstrate to the boys," Mr. Warren said. His voice was muffled through the towel. Beatrice frowned and carefully peeled the towel back from Mr. Warren's nose, which was still spurting blood. "I'll have to pack it," Nurse Beatrice said. She produced a thin cotton applicator and pressed it against Mr. Warren's nostril.

It didn't surprise her. Major Durand was well known for his rather thuggish behavior, and physical intimidation of the new faculty was par for the course. But that Mr. Warren, a man with thin shoulders and a shy, loping smile, would _willingly_ and _knowingly_ allow a man twice his size to punch him...well that was something of a surprise.

Now Mr. Warren winced as she shoved the cotton up into his nostril, pushing rather indelicately into the offending orifice.

"I'm sorry," Nurse Beatrice said. A small string hung from the cotton. "This is to remove it, but not until you're sure it's stopped bleeding," Nurse Beatrice said. Her mouth quirked, wryly. "And yes. It is very much like a feminine hygiene product, as I'm sure you're well aware."

"Thank you," Mr. Warren said. He smiled. "You are my only friend in this place. Perhaps once the bleeding is stopped, you will do me the honor and let me take you to dinner."

Nurse Beatrice smiled. "I should like that very much," she said.

Mr. Warren stood, smiling broadly. The little cotton string dangled from the tip of his nose.

xXx

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She got word of his termination the next day.

He didn't stop by the office. When he didn't, Nurse Beatrice rushed to where the gaggle of students were, surrounding the icy lake and shouting at the top of their lungs.

"Teddy! Hang on there, old boy!"

Teddy had fallen into the lake. When she walked through the crowd, she saw Mr. Warren shambling across the ice, before carefully dipping into the cold water to lift Teddy out.

His face was red and he was shivering when he stepped out onto the lawn. Nurse Beatrice threw a blanket over him and led him into the infirmary, rubbing his arms, which were ice cold.

"What you did was a swell thing," Nurse Beatrice said. Mr. Warren lay on the cot, shivering but smiling with a hundred blankets heaped on top of him. "The poor old thing would have been a goner if you didn't go after him. You saved his life."

Mr. Warren smiled. "It wasn't much," Mr. Warren said. Nurse Beatrice sat next to him and took his hand.

She checked his pulse. It was thready and fast and she looked up at Mr. Warren, who seemed to be blushing under the blankets. "Mr. Warren?"

"Forgive me," Mr. Warren said. "I suppose there has been a little too much excitement today."

"Of course," Nurse Beatrice said. Mr. Warren smiled.

"You have always been very kind to me," Mr. Warren said. "Please know that it is appreciated."

"It is just my job," Nurse Beatrice said. Mr. Warren's smile slipped. He looked away.

xXx

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Mr. Hadley reinstated Mr. Warren, much to Nurse Beatrice's relief. She smiled and waved as he passed the office, his thin shoulders straight as he braced himself for study hall.

She saw him rush down the hallway not one hour later.

"Mr. Warren? Mr. Warren, what's wrong?"

Beatrice poked her head out of the nurse's office, but Mr. Warren kept walking. She chased him down the hall, then caught his hand. "Mr. Warren?" She could hear the boys laughing in study hall.

He turned. She startled, surprised to see tears in his eyes.

"Nurse Beatrice," Mr. Warren said. "It seems I am unfit to carry out my duties."

"Come to the office," Beatrice said. She squeezed Mr. Warren's hand.

xXx

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A strong cup of coffee and a blanket seemed to soothe him, and Nurse Beatrice sat anxiously across from him. She kept the office door closed.

"They started barking," Mr. Warren said. He looked up at her with terrible eyes. "I was so humiliated. What kind of man am I, to allow the taunts of school children to bother me?"

"Now, now," Nurse Beatrice said. She rubbed his back. He didn't say a word.

He drank from the coffee cup, which Nurse Beatrice wordlessly took and refilled. "Who is watching study hall?" she asked. Mr. Warren shook his head.

"I do not know," Mr. Warren said. "But most likely this will result in my termination."

He slumped, shoulders shaking. Nurse Beatrice rubbed his back and brought him to her chest, patting him soothingly. "There, there."

They stayed like that for a moment, before Mr. Warren looked up and broke away. "Nurse Beatrice?"

"Yes?"

She sat beside him. His eyes were terribly sad. "I was not lying when I said you were my only friend in this place," Mr. Warren said.

Nurse Beatrice watched him, carefully. His shoulders were stooped. His thin hands were clasped in his lap. "I promised myself I would knit you a proper sweater," Nurse Beatrice said. She picked at his jacket, which was threadbare and falling apart at the seams. "I also promised myself that I would cook you a proper dinner and put some meat on your bones. Perhaps when my shift is over...?"

He looked up. She could see it: surprise, hope, an expectation of rejection. Nurse Beatrice smiled.

"A glass of wine and good company always does good for what ails us," Nurse Beatrice said. "Even if you leave. You've always promised to take me to dinner."

"Yes," Mr. Warren said, and he smiled. It was a shy, hopeful smile.

xXx

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She was not there when Mr. Hadley spoke with him, but she could imagine well enough what was said: adjectives like _weak_, _dimwitted_, all sorts of things flung out of the headmaster's mouth. She was there, however, to meet Mr. Warren at the school gates, and when he saw her his shoulders straightened a little, and Nurse Beatrice smiled and took his arm.

"I believe this is the first time I've seen you outside in public," Nurse Beatrice said. They were sitting in a diner, talking over coffee and a slice of pie. "Where are you going from here?"

Mr. Warren smiled and she ate a small forkful of pie. "I don't know," Mr. Warren said. "I have a little savings left. I'll probably catch a ferry off the island in the morning. From there, I'm not sure."

"It's a shame you cannot stay," Nurse Beatrice said. "You'll promise me you'll write?"

Mr. Warren smiled. "Of course," Mr. Warren said. Nurse Beatrice beamed. She squeezed his hand.

She felt sad as they walked down the empty street to her apartment. The night was cool and a smoky vapor seemed to rise up in the cold night air, and she kept her hand firmly on Mr. Warren's arm for balance. They reached her porch steps and they stood a moment, before Nurse Beatrice spoke.

"Would you like to come inside?" Nurse Beatrice asked.

xXx

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They sat on the couch. Mr. Warren looked sad and Nurse Beatrice said nothing, staring at her hands.

"It must be lonely," Mr. Warren said, and Nurse Beatrice looked up. "Being alone in a place like this. I know I feel lonely, sometimes," Mr. Warren said, and he stopped, reddening. Nurse Beatrice smiled.

"It's not so bad," Nurse Beatrice said. She took his hand and squeezed it. "When there is good company around."

She caught his gaze. Mr. Warren blushed.

"Shall I ask you to kiss me, then?" Nurse Beatrice said. She scooted closer. "Or perhaps I should instead?"

"Nurse Beatrice-"

She kissed him gently on the cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder. Mr. Warren sighed, then let his hand slip against her waist.

"I shall miss you," Nurse Beatrice said.

"As will I," Mr. Warren said. She felt him hitch her close, shifting her weight against his chest. "Nurse Beatrice-"

"Yes?"

"I believe...I believe I am in love with you," Mr. Warren said. Nurse Beatrice smiled, then reached up to kiss him on the nose.

"The feeling is mutual," Nurse Beatrice said.

Mr. Warren was smiling. Slowly he moved and kissed her on the brow, then on her lips, a small, chaste kiss. He blushed and smiled and she kissed him again, her hand moving to cup his cheek.

"You're leaving tomorrow," Nurse Beatrice said. Mr. Warren nodded.

"Yes," he said. He hugged her tight.

They stayed like that a few moments, cuddled up against each other, Mr. Warren pausing to stroke her hair or every so often kiss the side of her face, and it was warm and comfortable and also sad, because he would be leaving in the morning. He shifted and Nurse Beatrice looked up at him, and he leaned and kissed her gently on the mouth, letting his lips part slightly and touching hers. "Perhaps he will let me stay," Mr. Warren said.

"Mr. Warren?"

Mr. Warren shook his head. "I will beg him," Mr. Warren said. "I will do anything. Go on my hands and knees. They still need a mathematics teacher. I can fill in for him."

"And if he doesn't?" Nurse Beatrice said. He squeezed her hands.

"Then I shall find employment in the city, then perhaps...perhaps I could send for you, and you could come with me," Mr. Warren said.

"Mr. Warren," Nurse Beatrice said.

"Silas," Mr. Warren said.

"Silas," Nurse Beatrice said, and he smiled.

They made love in the bedroom in the dark, and afterwards he held her, his face pressed up against her hair.

xXx

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"Reinstated?"

Mr. Durand's face was red. "The hell do you mean he was reinstated?"

Nurse Beatrice smiled and shook her head as the other teachers clucked in amazement. She saw Silas later that afternoon, spitballs clinging to his jacket. He was smiling. She waved and kissed him and took his hand.

"Ah," Mr. Durand said, rolling his eyes. "Now I understand."

And he and the other teachers watched as the two of them walked away together, smiling and holding hands.


End file.
